


Unmasked

by exhostar



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Character Development, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Squid Sister-Centric, Worldbuilding, content warnings in chapter notes as necessary, implied past calli3, mizuta ahato (specifically not dedf1sh), possibly more tags to be added, relationships are not the focus of this fic, the canon is a serving suggestion and ill eat my squids however i damn please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29858382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhostar/pseuds/exhostar
Summary: After everything Marie had been through to save Callie, you’d think she’d at least have the common decency to show some gratitude.What, after everything Callie had done to make a new life for herself, she was supposed to be grateful that Marie tore it all away from her? Piss off.
Relationships: Agent 4/Marie (Splatoon), Callie/Dedf1sh (Splatoon)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Unmasked

It had been just under a month since the New Squidbeak Splatoon had disrupted Octavio’s nefarious plans, and, more importantly, freed Callie from the Canyons. Marie had been overjoyed to finally have her closest, most cheerful cousin back and safe at last, and she couldn’t wait to catch her up on all the things she’d missed out on that past year.

Though, it soon became obvious that things wouldn’t so easily click back into place. It was as if they’d reversed roles: Callie seemed to have the fight taken out of her, and she was just so small, quiet, miserable. Barely talking, barely around—it wasn’t unusual for her to shut herself away in her room for days on end and half-heartedly accept the meals and encouraging words that Marie offered her at her door. Only on the rare occasion would she venture out into the living room to crash on the couch, and never when Marie was around to see. It broke her hearts to hear how hollow her cousin’s voice was, and even more to know that she couldn’t help her, couldn’t comfort her.

But no matter, right? After all, she’d been through so much, and Marie couldn’t imagine how long it would take to readjust. The fact that she was responding, that she was _alive_ , was what mattered the most. That’s what she kept telling herself. So, Marie left her be, despite the lump in her throat and sinking feeling in her chest that everything was not alright, convincing herself that she had to be strong, to keep it together, for Callie.

On one early morning (Marie had accustomed herself to waking up earlier in case Callie needed her, much to her body’s misery), she knocked on her cousin’s door, warning her that she was heading to the Canyons with Four, and breakfast was on the little tray in the hallway, don’t step on it! 

She should’ve known something was up in that little moment of silence, the absence of a response. Not even a non-committal mumble, or tired hum of acknowledgement—Callie always made the effort to respond to her. 

Maybe she was still asleep. Early bird as she was, she was still prone to waking up early to do some menial social media scrolling, and falling asleep again for a while after. So, she set off, but not before drawing a little heart on a sticky note, and placing it delicately on Callie’s cutlery.

As she locked up their apartment with shaky hands, she couldn’t help her mind straying back to that particular Splatfest; it still left her with a pit in her stomach. Marie was never much for casual banter, and often came off as harsh, blunt, or completely oblivious. Though her cousin was always accepting of that, and more than made up for the gaps in conversation Marie left, their producers wanted more of that ‘sibling rivalry’ dynamic no one else could dream of pulling off. So, she played up her reactions as best as she could, always worrying she was going too far with her scathing (yet witty) repartees, and Callie always laughing it off and reassuring her that it was all just an act, a show for the fans.

She didn’t do that for Early Bird and Night Owl. Stormed off, even, so their broadcasts had to be cancelled, ignored her texts for the entirety of that long and dreadful day, and then cheerfully greeted her when she came home, as if nothing had ever even happened.

Ah, she was already at the outpost—when had she gotten here? Four greeted her with the same chipper tone she loved to hear, but she didn’t take much notice of the girl, or anything much at all. In fact, it was a while before either of them realised the absence of a grumpy third party butting into their conversations, or the shattered glass that lay in shards across the corner of their outpost where a globe once stood. Four rushed to check up on Cephalon, and urged Marie to make sure Callie was safe.

She was at their home as quickly as she’d appeared at work. Stepping over the now-cold plate of little sweet pastries and swinging the door open in one swift movement, Marie quickly flicked her eyes over the room. 

Messy, but then again, Callie liked to call it ‘organised chaos’. The locks hadn’t been tampered with, nor windows smashed. A few personal belongings had been snatched from their resting places. The Hypnoshades were nowhere to be seen.

Four buzzed her, anxious for her to return; Octavio had gotten to Callie again. Her hearts throbbed in her ears as she found herself shuffling out of the room, and stopped to look down at the tray of food, her untouched little note. Four was wrong. Octavio hadn’t done anything to her cousin.

Callie left by _choice._

* * *

Then it happened again. And then two more times, both in the same _week._ Poor Four was overworked to shell, and looked like she wasn’t getting enough sleep. Marie could empathise with her there.

The _fifth_ time was the first she’d caught her in the act. A long, dark overcoat obscured her famous silhouette, tentacles let down and tucked under the collar, and a staunchly pink shoulder bag hung loosely from her arm. Her gaze was guarded by brightly coloured, flickering pixels, interspersed within an unnervingly dark void of black. Her lips were curled into a snarl (a snarl!).

Clouds were settling over a murky sky, the moon and stars averting their eyes, and it looked as if a storm were brewing. 

It just didn’t make sense. They _saved_ Callie, right? Octavio brainwashed her, took her against her will, used her for his own benefit. He was probably planning on discarding her as soon as he had no more need for her.

So, why was her cousin _furious_ about her escape plans being foiled? Where was this coming from? 

When they’d rescued Callie, she was so reserved, reluctant, heartbreakingly vulnerable, nothing like the girl she used to be. Terrified, even, for the first few days, startling with even the softest knock or call from Marie. Nothing seemed to cheer her up, not all the news about their old friends that she’d missed, nor the constant stream of worries all her loved ones sent her, not even her favourite, sickeningly sweet and unhealthy fast food fixes. Perhaps, if Three was around… but it pained Marie to even think about admitting what she’d been suspecting for too long. No. Callie was hurting enough as is. She didn’t need to hear anything else of the sort. 

Now, that nagging little worry was something that would only further push her cousin over the edge. Somehow, selfishly, Marie preferred that broken little Callie to the mess she had on her hands right now.

In her frustrated confusion, and retrospectively, denial, she had confiscated those damn shades, and kept them safe, locked up, and most importantly, far away from anywhere Callie could go. It was something she should’ve done long ago, she just… didn’t realise to what lengths she would go to steal them back. They must be to blame. Being near them so often must have messed with her brain, caused her to stop thinking straight. Callie would never choose Octavio over Marie—never, not in her right mind.

It was enough to get her to stop, if just for a while. They returned to their miserable dance.

* * *

In the end, even that didn’t deter her cousin. Just a few days ago, she woke up, and again found Callie’s room empty, sheets strewn messily, and the girl hanging off the windowsill, readying a super jump. She found herself crying out, still trying to ready herself for a confrontation, voice strained and hoarse, “Callie, _stop!”_

Everything fell deathly silent as they locked eyes. Like in the climax of a movie, when everything moved in slow motion. Callie’s expression raced through determination, shock, anger, and irritation, all in less than half a second. Marie dared to break the silence, shaky, barely above a whisper. “Callie, what do you think you’re doing?”

She _growled._ “What does it look like, huh?” her cousin scowled, incensed. Without thinking, without realising, Marie took a wordless step back, ears twitching in fear. Callie didn’t seem to take notice. “I’m leaving this shithole. I’m sick of you.”

Her mouth fell open before she could formulate any words, and her lip quivered as she tried to process it all. Callie never swore, and _especially_ not at her. Her eyes stung, but she was determined to keep it together. She had to ask how the domes could be better than their comfortable home, how she was still following Octavio after everything that had happened, how she could just… up and leave everyone that she loved. Instead, all she could manage was a quiet, broken little, “What… what did I do—?”

_“What did I do?”_ Callie jeered, a mocking echo. It was so unexpected that she almost broke down, right then and there, and the urge to clutch at her chest, to keep her hearts bursting out of her throat, was suffocating. Trying to steady her breaths felt futile.

“It’s always about _you,_ isn’t it? But yeah actually, since you bring it up, what _did_ you do?” She took a sharp step forward, and Marie again startled back. “You’re a coward,” she snickered, mirthless, contemptuous, glare raking up and down her cousin’s pathetic frame. “You’re a selfish, self-centred, _spineless_ little coward who’s more concerned about her success than her _friends!”_

She took another step, but now, Marie was rooted to the spot. Callie’s voice was laced with poison, her words like bared fangs, her venom paralysing Marie. “You were too _busy_ to check in on me, weren’t you? Swamped with all that new-found fame after our little splatfest, oh _poor you.”_ She feigned excitement, brows raised and grin bared, but her eyes were tiny, glowing, her teeth so much sharper than usual. Her hands flew up in giddy applause, thrilled with none of the enthusiasm behind it. “I’m _so_ happy to see you doing so well after completely _stomping_ me into the ground for your own gain! Wow, great job!” With each clap, her mantle flickered brighter and brighter, as if she was going to burst into a kraken and thrash her to a pulp.

Marie felt petrified, frozen, overwhelmed. Callie’s finger was jabbing at her, accusing, irate. She had to try her hardest not to flinch. “Well, are you just going to stand there?” her cousin pouted, much too childish for the atmosphere. “I don’t know what I expected from you, really. Maybe you’re listening to me for once in your life.”

“Are you still brainwashed?” Marie whispered, struggling to rationalise the situation, and it was all she could do to stop herself from backing into the wall and melting into the floor. “I got rid of the—“

“It’s _not_ about the Hypnoshades!” her cousin snapped, voice shrill as she lost composure, the colour of her tentacles darkening to a crimson. Frenzied light pulsed up their lengths in waves. Her arms flew down either side, hands balled into fists, advancing again with a vengeance, and this time, Marie shrank back, her knees buckling beneath her as her shoulders struck against the wall. A strangled cry shattered the silence, and only distantly did she recognise it as her own. Her head had withdrawn behind braced arms, and she was shaking with how tightly she clutched to herself.

“None of this is about the Hypnoshades! It was _never_ about the Hypnoshades. They don’t even fucking do anything, you know that right?” 

Marie drew her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly, her eyes growing wide. “You… what do you mean?”

“Gee, Marie, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one out of us?” Callie snapped her fingers in front of her face, as if trying to free her from her delusion. The sound made her look up, and even as wet and snotty and pathetic as she looked, her cousin never let up on her tirade. Intensified it, even, her expression impossibly more enraged. “I’m doing this because I want to, not because I’m being mind controlled, brainiac. I have a _problem_ with you.”

The words shattered her resolve. She felt dizzy, pierced with such a sudden, sharp moment of clarity. Her voice was more wounded than worried. “Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why do _I_ have to say something?” Her tone was scathing, biting, each word harsher than the last. “Why do I have to be the one to reach out, and put all the effort in?”

Marie’s heart ached, and she had to clamp down on her lip to stop herself from breaking down, kicking and screaming. She drew back into herself, tighter, as if she could hide away and Callie would stop hunting her down, stop tearing her to shreds. There was a faint taste of blood in her mouth.

“You would’ve realised if you’d bothered to be around. I was-” Her voice finally cracked, her sharp, bitter tone cut off by a broken, high-pitched whimper. “I was so alone.” Tears hung in the corner of her eyes. “I wanted to convince myself that you cared.” Marie dared to look up, regretting it immediately as she was met with a face so distressingly similar to her own. “I wanted you to care.” And yet, she couldn’t look away. Callie’s nose twitched furiously, like it always did when she was overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to notice that I wasn’t okay…” Before the first tears could drop, she turned on her heel.  
  


At that point, Marie was clutching at her own arms, trembling, feeling like if she let go, she’d rip at the seams. She couldn’t believe that Callie had suffered through all that turmoil, and she’d been none the wiser. That she was the _cause_ of it. Her breaths came up short, swift, shallow, head spinning out of control. She was at her limit.

“You know what’s funny?” she mumbled half heartedly, wearing a wistful smile on her face that Marie couldn’t see. “Even after everything, I kept hoping you would come back to me.” 

Her cousin’s voice was small, and empty. Numb. “I wish I’d let go earlier.” 

Only distantly did Marie hear the whistle of a super jump. She didn’t have the hearts to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY MAR13 DAY (yes i did schedule this to be posted today im not a nerd you are)! well, its not a happy day for her, but yeah
> 
> okay, yeah this is gonna be... pretty fucking angsty, sorry. i just haven't seen many fics at all focusing on the relationship between callie and marie before, during, and after the events of splat2's hero mode, which seems like such a waste, yknow? there's so much to explore here, i just hope i do it justice, haha. thank you for reading so far! 
> 
> sorry if you were looking forward to sl/sn content from me. maybe one day, but i got pretty burnt out working on it :')


End file.
